


Blue Glass

by ghost bitch (ghost_bitch)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Choking, Crushes, Curses, Drowning, G/T, Gay Keith (Voltron), Giants, Guilt, Injury, M/M, Misunderstandings, Panic Attacks, Protective Keith (Voltron), Self Confidence Issues, Shrinking, Spells & Enchantments, ajsfbdjfalk, also probably counts as, anyways im gay yehaw, cause he chokes on water, idk im dumb, this is so self indulgent, uhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-06 01:41:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15183938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghost_bitch/pseuds/ghost%20bitch
Summary: Lance is known for his loud, big personality. When that trait gets cursed right out of him in a very literal way, he has no choice but to look his problems right in the face.He does have to look way, way up though.





	1. Chapter 1

This was stupid.  
That was what Lance officially decided while blasting through the chest of a sentry, leaving only a smoking hole and fried circuits behind.  
He gritted his teeth and tried not to touch his dislocated shoulder.  
“This is stupid!” He relayed into the comms, not getting much of a reply other than a grunt of confirmation from a couple members of his team.  
He kept shooting, keeping his eye on the door, waiting for Hunk to burst through and help him with the horde of futuristic robots that swarmed at him.  
No one came in, so he kept shooting.  
After a few minutes, all that was left in the room with him was singed metal and the smell of smoke.  
He crouched with his hands on his knees, panting, careful not to jostle his shoulder.  
The door opened behind him, and leap turned to look, sarcasm already salty on his tongue.  
“Oh good of you to join me, you can help me collect all this scrap met-”  
The words died in his mouth when he saw who was standing at the door.  
Not Hunk.  
A woman clothed in charcoal grey that was patterned with sharp red shapes.  
He remembered hearing about her- this was Haggar.

Lance took a step back despite himself, the metal on the bottom of his boot clinking against the ground, echoing out around the room, and he frowned.  
He didn't want to look scared, that couldn't possibly lead to anything good with this woman.  
She smiled- or, what Lance guessed was a smile. He couldn't see most of her face.  
“So- what do I have to do to get past you? Throw a bucket of water on you?” Lance asked, voice tight. He chuckled nervously.

Her smile did not falter, she stepped forward and reached out a bony hand to him.  
Lance took a step back, clenching his teeth, but his foot stopped a few inches before hitting the ground.  
Why would he want to run away from her? She is nothing but kind after all.  
Something about that thought didn't seem right to him, but any concerns were forced out of his mind when she put a hand on his armored shoulder.  
Despite him seeing the way it moved his injured arm, and knowing it should have hurt tremendously- Lance only kept smiling sleepily up at the witch.  
She snaked her other hand up his back and he felt her nestle something into his hair.  
His wide smile pushed up at the corners of his eyes and did not change when the door was kicked open to show a furious looking group of brightly adorned people, that he didn't quite recognize. 

The one in yellow at the head of the group shouted something at Haggar, furious before his eyes landed on Lance and he faltered, looking confused and scared.  
He was shoved aside by the red one, who lunged at Haggar, teeth clenched in concentration, sword drawn.  
Lance stepped in front of the blow dazedly.  
The red one's sword dug into his side, but only just, but Lance had no reaction  
His purple eyes stared him down, frightened and questioning.  
Lance had no answers but felt something tug at the back of his mind. He felt a quiet order, and leaped towards the red one, hands wrapped around his Bayard, he swung the weapon up towards his face and-  
Lance crashed to the ground, not sure what had happened until he saw the yellow one standing over him terrified, with the butt of his weapon clearly having just bashed him on the head with it.  
Lance decided that this would be a good time to pass out. 

When he opened his eyes again there was chaos, everyone was fighting, and since they were all fighting one person, they kept getting in each other's way. Lance scoffed, closing his eyes at the group's performance.

'They need a sharpshooter...', he thought to himself, only half awake.  
He shot up, 'Oh shit, that's me!'  
He reached for his Bayard, and got to his feet, ignoring the way his head swam and dove towards the battle.  
Haggar glared at him, his teammates not yet seeing him awake, and Lance prepared a shot.  
He pulled the trigger and the beam of blue light blasted towards her, an unobstructed path to her chest.  
The second the shot would have touched her she dissipated into smoke. The team turned to look at him, and Lance lowered his weapon.  
It was then that Haggar reappeared behind him and put her cold hands on either side of his head.  
Electricity coursed through him, and he lost control of his legs, slumping to the ground, panting. 

He heard her vanish again, felt the smoke coil around him, and then the hands of concerned teammates. He waved them away, still coughing into his free hand.  
He got to his feet, using Hunk 's shoulder for support.  
"Are you okay?" He asked, sounding decidedly worried.  
Lance nodded, still trying to get his bearings.  
"My legs are just wobbly. My shoulder is dislocated too. Nbd bro." He said hoarsely.  
"Do you think you can still fly Red." Asked Keith, his eyes never straying far from the cut on his side, which was strange, because he definitely should have rolled his eyes at Lance 's poor attempt at using 2010 circa slang.  
Lance straightened out, checking if he had enough feeling in his legs to walk around without using a crutch.  
Something itched at the back of his neck and he scratched at it, before pulling something away and staring in horror at the chip that had been embedded in his skin.  
Keith looked over his shoulder, equally disgusted.  
“A tracker. Dirty bitch.”  
He took it, looking out the doorway with distaste.  
“I’ll throw it out into space or something.” 

"Sounds good! Now let's get the hell out of here." Lance muttered, to a chorus of murmured agreements. 

 

It was when they were more than halfway to the Castle that Lance started to feel strange. 

His breathing was labored, and his muscles strained against his will. Lance made a noise of pain, and let out a silent curse that his comm was off. With the way his muscles were seizing there was no way of reaching the button.  
There should so be a voice-activated way of turning these features off and on.  
Lance made a panicked noise as he realized that, no, that would not help him either, because his jaw was locked. 

Lance panicked silently as the pain steadily picked up in intensity. He couldn't scream. He couldn't move. There was nothing he could do to express how this felt or to do anything to escape it. 

The pain was hot until it was burning cold.  
Lance couldn't tell if his eyes were open or shut- he only saw white.  
His muscles unclenched suddenly, and he finally let out a shout of pain, pulling his helmet off violently to get fresh air to his face.  
He couldn't open his eyes, that would mean light, which would lead to more pain, which was not something Lance thought he could deal with right now.  
It felt like days, but it was probably only minutes before the pain faded away and Lance started to become aware of other things that were going on around him.  
Lance sat up, rubbing his eyes, careful to avoid spiking the still fading headache.  
When he opened his eyes, it was pitch dark, which was nice on his eyes, but not so nice from a logical point of view because it was very much not the well-lit cockpit he had closed his eyes in. 

There were also some other not so great things going on.  
Lance made the executive decision not to get to his feet because the floor was shaking like a drum skin. Not even a good one. Like, one you'd buy at the dollar store.  
There was also something that sounded like thunder. If multiple thunder claps were going on at the same time. 

Yeah, this was stupid.


	2. Chapter 2

'Well', thought Lance, 'curiosity killed the cat.'   
That idea stayed with him for barely any time at all before he started to nervously saunter to the small source of light.   
'But satisfaction brought it back.' He finished with an internal sigh.   
His neck began to ache from the crouched position he was in, the ceilings were really low. 

It seemed like ages before he managed to get to the source of the light, and all he had managed to gain was the floor shaking even harder and the thunderclaps getting louder.   
The light was still unidentifiable, but he could see a large plane of what looked like metal, which thankfully destroyed the idea that he was in a Galra prison cell.   
There were large structures of... something.   
They varied in color, white and then other bright colors, the base about as tall as he was.   
He squinted at them for a moment, before he realized with horror that they were moving.   
One of the towers lowered to the ground and now Lance had his answer to what was making the floor feel like a small scale earthquake.   
What the hell could be making those towers move like that. 

Oh.   
Oh shit.   
They weren't towers were they.   
Lance ducked behind the structure he was currently holed up in, breath quickening.   
These were giants! That stupid spell had teleported him to some fucked up giant planet!  
He suddenly very much regretted taking off his helmet, he now had no way of contacting the team. 

___________________________

Time went by, and Lance sat with his knees to his chest, trying to retain heat.   
The air was warm but he was weirdly cold.   
He tried to figure out what to do, but there didn't seem to be many options. His only stroke of good luck was that he hadn't lost his armor. He was almost positive that it had a tracker in it somewhere.   
Or maybe it was in the helmet.   
Lance groaned, putting his forehead to his knees in frustration. He was so fucked. 

His negative thoughts were interrupted by a shuffling coming from somewhere to his right, and Lance immediately got to his feet. If the people here were so big, he didn't even want to imagine the animals.   
He heard a snuffling noise and realized that he had left his Bayard in his Lion too, and he cursed under his breath.  
Long whiskers appeared from behind a corner, twitching as the creature sniffed for him, and Lance got ready to run. It would certainly be the smart decision considering that he didn't have a weapon.   
The creature poked its head out from behind the corner, and Lance jerked in surprise.   
It was one of the Space Mice! 

His second thought was that it was the size of a small horse.   
"Oh shit."   
Platt seemed equally surprised to see him and poked at him with his nose.   
Lance shoved him away lightly, trying to get his bearings.   
"Wait what the hell? Are there mice on this giant world too?"   
Platt sniffed at his pockets for the scraps he would feed the mice under the table. No this was definitely the Platt he knew.   
And that meant-  
Lance suddenly felt dizzy.   
He hadn't teleported anywhere, he had shrunk.  
_____________________________________________

Once he had convinced Platt to give him a ride back to the others with promises of alien seeds, he swung himself onto the mouse's back- that was such a weird thing to say- and Platt began to scurry out of the Lion.   
Once he was out of the hangar and began running down the hallway, Lance gave the mouse his instructions.   
"Stop at the first person you see and get their attention! I'll take it from there!"   
Platt was good at following directions, unfortunately, the first person they saw was Keith. 

Platt squeaked at him, and Lance groaned.   
Keith didn't look down and waved the mouse away distractedly, he seemed to be occupied with something else, worry clouding his eyes. Or what part of his eyes that Lance could see from down here.   
Keith finally looked down at Platt, and by extension Lance, and froze.   
"Uh... Lance?"   
Lance got off of the mouse and tried to cross his arms before wincing at the stab of pain in his shoulder, hoping that his now small stature would prevent Keith from seeing his embarrassed blush.   
"Yeah. I guess I wasn't as fine as I thought." He said, still not making eye contact, though he doubted that Keith could tell. 

 

Keith dropped down to his knees in an attempt to see Lance better, and the floor shook once more, knocking Lance to the ground. Keith reached out, before pulling his hand back, for which Lance was grateful.   
"Are you hurt?" He asked, keeping his voice low, which was good because if their voices sounded like thunder from far away he couldn't imagine how loud it would be close up.   
"Not more than before," Lance said truthfully, getting back to his feet. "Can we go find the others? I want to find a way to reverse this as soon as possible, to be honest. It's a little unsettling." Lance laughed and hoped that Keith couldn't tell it was forced. 

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Keith said straightening out a little. He looked down at him nervously.   
"Should I carry you there or...?"   
Lance snorted. "No thanks, I can ride the..."   
Platt had left. The bastard.   
Lance sighed.   
"Fine."   
Keith, to his credit, does not look very happy about this turn of events either. In fact, he looks fucking terrified.   
Keith reaches down for him and sets his hand on the floor, which Lance climbs onto awkwardly. Keith puts his other hand over Lance, which Lance knows is so that he won't fall off, is also unnerving to be surrounded by someone's skin on all sides.   
His stupid fingerless gloves make it a little better, but he can still feel his muscles twitching nervously around him.   
Lance slams into one of the living walls around him with the momentum of Keith's sudden stride.   
Lance groans quietly.   
Why couldn't Platt have found someone else?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heres a handy dandy scale of size comparision!  
> https://www.deviantart.com/ghostbitch2/art/size-scale-753239464?ga_submit_new=10%3A1530906366  
> it would mean alot if you would take the time to comment or to give kudos!


	3. Chapter 3

Its only been a few minutes since this whole uncomfortable situation had begun taking place, but to Lance, it felt like its been forever.   
Not to mention he's bored.   
He probably shouldn't be, considering the very exciting (read: terrifying) issue he's facing, but his brain is resolutely refusing to think about the position he's in. Lance isn't sure he wants to process it.   
So instead he finds other ways to entertain himself. Which largely consists of finding ways to get on Keith's nerves.   
He lies on his back and kicks up at the fingers curled around him, trying to get a reaction out of the hothead holding him, but getting nothing but twitching in return for his efforts. 

He sighs, very firmly not thinking about how hard he's kicking, and how Keith still isn't reacting to it. He is going to have to find another way to amuse himself.   
He stands, well, as much as he can in this enclosed space, and hoists himself up to the only source of light coming from between Keith's fingers and peeks his face out of it.   
He wants to see how close they are to the med bay, not to mention the fact that it's extremely hot in Keith's hands.   
He sees Keith's face, very resolutely not looking down. From what he can see, Keith looks anxious, well, more on the petrified end of the spectrum but Lance isn't one to judge. 

Keith's eyes dart down to him, and his eyes widen when he sees Lance looking back at him, his face snapping up and his face flushing in a way that said he had been checking on him for a while.   
Lance ducked back down into the dark, humid enclosure, crossing his arms with a huff.   
He turned back around again to look out of a different gap.   
They were almost to the med bay, Lance noted with relief.   
He could stop being carried and find out if this was going to get worse. If it was fixable.   
The thought made his hands shake, and he quickly clamped down on it. He did not need to have a panic attack in Keith's hands. 

Lance slammed into one of the fleshy walls around him when Keith entered the medical bay, apparently not wanting to use one of his hands to open the door and instead opting to kick it open like a goddamned cassowary bird.   
Lance grumbles but perks up when he hears Coran muttering to himself anxiously, greeting Keith when he enters.   
Keith doesn't answer but Lance both hears and feels when he says, "I found him, he's not hurt just- just don't yell, okay?"   
Lance is distracted by the intense vibrations that went through him when Keith spoke, so much so that he isn't prepared when he opens his hands to reveal Lance.   
Lance squints at the light, holding up a hand to shade his eyes from it.   
When his eyes adjust, he sees Coran pale, worried face looking at him, thankfully not looking down at him, having knelt to be level with him. 

"So uh, yeah. He's alive." Keith said awkwardly.  
"I can see that." Said Coran, sounding very tired for a moment, putting a hand over his eyes.   
He took his hand away and straightened up, taking Lance from Keith's hands gently, but quickly.   
"Go tell the others of the situation, and let them know he's okay." He instructed before turning around to walk briskly to a medical table and set Lance down on it.   
The table was cold and Lance shivered, he couldn't seem to retain any of the heat that was coming from the hands passing him around. 

Lance watches Keith leave, and he takes one more glance behind him at Lance before catching his eye, blushing, and walking out the door.   
"Now!" Says Coran, disinfecting his hands. "Let's run some scans shall we?" He says cheerfully. 

0000

As it turns out, most of the medical equipment is too big to be used on him properly right now, but one of the hovering scanners seems to pick up his readings, and it hovers around him, a blue light running over his body as it takes in his stats.   
The light is about halfway down his torso when the door is kicked open (again!), and the entire team bursts into the room in a panic. 

Again, he was not expecting anyone to come crashing through the door, and he was just close enough to the edge of the table to push himself backward in surprise and go careening right off of it. 

For a second, it felt like he hung in the air, and Lance didn't scream, he was too surprised that this was the way he was going to die.   
Fortunately, a gloved hand caught him carefully, and he bounced slightly upon impact, the wind knocked out of him. So, so much better than the alternative though.   
Coran looks down at him worriedly.   
"Are you alright, my boy?"   
Lance gives out a wheeze that he hopes no one hears and gives a thumbs up. 

Coran, satisfied that he is okay, glares at the others.   
"I presume before you came in here Keith told you to be quiet?"   
The group of people shuffle their feet guiltily but look too worried about Lance to really dwell on that.   
The team groups around him, asking questions frantically, though now at a much lower volume.   
"Are you in any pain?"   
"When did this happen?"   
"Are you gonna be okay?" 

Luckily, Lance doesn't have to answer these questions, because the scanner he had been under decides that it is a good moment to print the results.   
Coran reads over it, and Pidge peeks over his shoulder.   
While they read over, the others turn back to him, Hunk looking near tears.   
"When we got back you weren't getting out of your Lion and we heard you through the comms! You sounded like you were in pain! We came in to see if you were okay, but we could only find your helmet!" Hunk then broke down into tears and Keith patted his back awkwardly. 

Lance stands up to do a decidedly better job of helping his friend than Keith is but doesn't get the chance because the moment he stands up, the wound on his side gives him a stab of pain and he feels it reopen, blood spilling and darkening his undersuit.   
Both Keith and Hunk look absolutely terrified by this new development.   
"Oh my god! I totally forgot about that! Let me get Coran!"   
Hunk rushes off to get help and Keith stays where he is, not meeting Lance's eyes.   
Coran walks back with Hunk before Lance can ask what Keith's problem is, and is holding the results of the scan in one hand, still reading it over.   
"Well, from what I can see, you have a dislocated shoulder, a twisted ankle, and a laceration just under your ribs." At this Keith grits his teeth and looks at the ground.   
"But other than that, your cells have rapidly shrunk. This is going to cause you to have trouble retaining body heat, you could get injured far easier, and your heart to beat at a much higher rate." 

Lance nods, the exhaustion from all this excitement finally hitting him head-on.   
Coran seems to notice and pokes his uninjured arm gently.   
"Now hold on, I know you need rest, but we're going to need to treat your injuries first." 

00000

This ended up being rather difficult, seeing that the medical supplies used for everyone on the ship were people sized, and now Lance was far from people sized. Luckily Altea was a very diplomatic planet, which meant that they had supplies for any species they might meet, and after Coran searched the supplies room vigorously, he found some supplies for a much smaller species.   
It was still too big for Lance, which he found a little humiliating, but hey, he wasn't complaining. 

Coran applies disinfectant to his side, and as he does he watches Keith storm out of the room, wondering, once again, what the hell his problem was.   
Pidge ends up being the one to wrap his wounds, considering that she has the smallest hands out of any of them and can make a computer out of literal trash, which takes some delicate handling.   
When it comes to his shoulder, however, its a little more difficult.  
No one wants to be the one to do it, risking messing up and hurting him worse, or possibly even breaking his arm beyond repair. 

Everyone looks way to somber for comfort, so Lance decides that cheering everyone up would be the best course of action.   
"No its okay! I saw this movie once where a guy popped his shoulder back into place by slamming himself into a wall! We can just do that!"   
That got a few laughs, to Lance's relief, watery as they were. 

After a long debate where Lance tried not to let on how much his arm was bugging him, it ended up being Hunk that would do it.   
One warm hand held his body down so that he wouldn't flinch away and risk hurting himself, and one of his hands held his hurt arm between his finger and thumb.   
Hunk's tongue stuck out from between his teeth in concentration, and he said he was going to count to three.   
Ha, Lance knew this trick. He said he would count to three and then actually do it at two, well Lance-   
"One."   
Lance's self-aggrandizing rant was cut short by a burst of pain in his arm, and he screamed.   
He wasn't planning on screaming, he didn't want to scare Hunk, but he wasn't expecting the pain.   
Hunk looked rather sick, and Lance guessed it didn't feel good to feel your best friend's body jerk up in pain and scream, literally under your hand.   
"I'm fine." Lance slurs, doing his best to reassure his friend and probably failing pretty badly. 

He felt like he was going to pass out. He was completely exhausted from all the pain of the day, not to mention his body freaking out and completely changing its form.   
He didn't want anyone to think he had died or something, so he tried to explain the situation he was in to his friends.   
"Can I sleep?"   
Well, that was less eloquent than he had hoped for.   
Coran nodded, picking him up carefully.   
"It's probably for the best that you do, your body is under a lot of stress."   
With permission granted, he fell asleep almost immediately, not even noticing the heated blanket he was set on, nor the handkerchief that would serve as a blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you could find the time to comment or to leave kudos I would really appreciate it! It really makes writing feel worth it! Have a nice day!


	4. Chapter 4

When Lance wakes up, he is groggy and disoriented. Really though, can anyone blame him for that?  
He tries to get his bearing, but all he can make out is the sound of waves or something and a breeze.   
Lance shoots up when his brain chooses that moment to remember the events of the last few hours. When he sits up, someone else straightens up next to him in surprise.   
Lance looked up, squinting a bit, both against the light and in an attempt to see the identity of the face that was so, so far above him.   
It was Shiro, that much was clear the moment he spoke.   
"Hey, kiddo. I'm glad to see you're awake."   
Lance hummed agreeably, feeling a little unnerved at the realization that the ocean sounds and the breeze he had been feeling were nothing but Shiro's breathing washing over him. 

Lance ignores that feeling and stretches out his arms in front of him, comforted by the high-tech heating blanket he was nestled in.   
"What time is it?" Lance asked around a yawn.   
Shiro glances over at a wall clock that Lance can't make heads or tails of at a normal height and turns back to Lance.   
"Just about dinner, a good time to wake up really."   
Lance was about to nod in agreement but was interrupted by the door opening again, thankfully this time someone had the decency to open it normally, and not kick it open like a goddamned lunatic. 

It turned out to be Keith, who was staring at a tray that held a silver thimble which looked like it contained one (1) water droplet, and a water pouch.   
He walked towards them, who watched his intense concentration on not spilling the water with quiet amusement.   
Keith makes it to Lance's bedside (well, tableside) and sets down the tray, looking pleased with himself as he examined his work at not spilling drinks.   
Keith then looks at Lance, which leads to him seeing he's awake, which leads to him nearly knocking over the drinks.  
Shiro caught the tray before any damage could be done, and Keith flushed deeply, staring at the ground like it tried to burn down his house, and storming out of the room. 

Lance glares after him, before turning back to Shiro.   
"What is his problem today?" Lance asked exasperatedly, flopping back down on his makeshift pillow.   
Shiro, who had also been watching Keith leave, frowns and hums thoughtfully.  
"I would think that he feels bad for injuring your side earlier."   
Lance sputters disbelievingly.   
"Wh-But-Why? I was brainwashed! I jumped in front of his attack, it's not like he meant to hurt me!"   
Shiro nods and his frown deepens.   
"He's a very emotional person. I wouldn't be surprised if he felt like he betrayed you, accident or not."   
Lance crossed his arms over his chest, huffing.   
"That's stupid."   
Shiro shrugged.   
"Emotions tend to be. Anyway, I think you should talk to him about it. Give him an opportunity to apologize-" Shiro held a finger up as Lance opened his mouth to protest.   
"I know you don't think he needs to, but he thinks he needs to. And I think it would make him feel better either way." 

Lance nods taking the water-filled thimble that Shiro had handed him pinched between two fingers carefully.   
The thimble, small as it was, was still far too big to be used as a regular cup and took two hands to hold.   
Lance hands it back to Shiro sheepishly.   
"I'm not thirsty anyway."   
Shiro takes it with a chuckle, pouring the water out and pocketing it.   
"Either way, we should get to dinner." 

They both look at each other uncomfortably for a moment, Lance not wanting to be picked up again, and Shiro clearly not wanting to pick Lance up.   
Shiro clears his throat and speaks; "I'll be honest, I'm a little worried about carrying you. My Galra arm could activate by accident, I could burn you, or crush you..."   
Shiro looked positively sick by these possibilities, and Lance was fairing no better, suddenly feeling very sick to his stomach.   
There are a few moments of silence where Lance tries to think of a way to get to the kitchen without being held in Shiro's hands.   
Lance snaps in realization, though his hands are so small that he doubts that Shiro can hear it.   
"Why don't I ride in your pocket!"   
Shiro looks up, confused.  
"My pocket?"   
"Yeah, dude! Haven't you ever seen 'Harry In Your Pocket'?"   
"That is not what that movie is about." Shiro scoffs. 

The air goes somber for a moment again, and Shiro reaches to pick Lance up, and Lance does his best to hide his discomfort with being picked up.   
Shiro is careful not to touch him with his HAND as he tilts his hand into his chest pocket to allow Lance to slide down his palm and into the bottom of the pocket with a small 'oof!'.   
After checking to make sure that Lance was okay, Shiro began walking to the kitchen. 

Lance did his best to get situated and found that it was rather easy, much easier than being held in someone's hands. It wasn't too unlike a hammock, actually.   
He bounced a bit with each step and found himself giggling a bit with each movement.   
The top of the pocket was pulled open, and Shiro's concerned face looked down at him.  
"You okay in there?" He asked worriedly.   
Lance gave a thumbs up before realizing how small his hands were and how dark it was in the pocket.   
"Yeah!" He shouts up. "It's like the tower of terror or something in here!"   
Shiro smiles mischievously all of a sudden, and Lance gets a bad feeling. Not like, I'm about to die bad feeling, but like, someones about to have fun at my expense.   
All of a sudden, it seems like the world drops away, and he has to grip onto the fabric at the bottom of the pocket in order to avoid flying to the top of it like one of those g-force rides at the fair.   
Lance screams, half with terror, half with mirth, and when he stops his pseudo falling, Shiro opens the flap of the pocket and looks down at Lance, laughing.  
He had dropped to one knee.   
Lance punches whatever area of Shiro's chest he can reach, and starts laughing too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you for reading! Theres going to be some filler in this, so if you have some scenes or prompts regarding this story, dont hesitate to comment them and Ill do my best to write them in! Or even write them seperately when Im done if it dosent fit with the story! If you can find the time to comment and tell me what you think I would really appreciate it! Have a nice day! :-D


	5. Chapter 5

They're still laughing when they enter the kitchen, and the other members of the team seated around the table look to them, looking concerned when they don't see Lance.   
When Shiro passes Lance's usual seat, he reaches into his pocket and allows Lance to hook an arm over one of his fingers and pulls him out of his pocket carefully.   
The others look a little scandalized to see Lance hanging off of one of Shiro's fingers, but settle down when he safely lands on the table in place of his seat. No amount of phone books was going to allow him to sit comfortably in a seat. 

In front of Lance, there was a spread of food that Hunk had no doubt prepared, all laid out on what looked like a tea saucer, and he felt a swelling of affection in his chest at the gesture. Sure the plate was still far too big for him, clocking in at about the height of his torso, but it would surely be less awkward to eat off of it when he didn't have to literally stand on the plate to eat the food.   
Shiro sets down the thimble, once again filled with water, next to his plate and takes his seat.   
Lance sits criss-cross in front of the plate and smiles up at Hunk.   
"Damn! Where do you even find this stuff?" He asked cheerfully, looking down at the dish, which smelled and was shaped exactly like curry rice but was bright white.   
He picked up a grain of rice and held it in his hands like a hotdog. He bit into it as Hunk went into the details of the planet he picked it up on, and how it was prepared.   
As Lance was half listening, his eyes wandered over to Keith, to see that he was once again staring at him like he was going to shatter at any second.   
When Lance caught his eye, Keith snapped his head away and started talking to Pidge as though they had been in the middle of a conversation, though they clearly had not judged by her bewildered expression.   
This was really starting to piss Lance off. 

As Hunk finished up his explanations, and Lance zoned back in, reaching for his thimble of water.   
"Whatever it is, it's amazing," Lance responded cheerfully, taking a sip of his water.   
Or, well, trying to.   
It turns out that he had completely forgotten about surface tension and how it would affect him at this size.   
He put the cup to his lips and tilted it back, furrowing his eyebrows when no water came into his mouth, and inhaled with shock when the water drop turned out to hold its form and go down his mouth with no prompting from him. And then into his lungs. 

It burned like hell and even though Lance was coughing hard enough that he was sure he had coughed up an organ or two by now, he still couldn't get the water out of his lungs.   
He heard shouting from Hunk, who had luckily seen what had happened, and alerted the rest of the team to Lance's potentially deadly, definitely embarrassing situation.   
He heard the others shouting now, and suggestions being passed around, each shot down on the grounds that it would kill him.   
He was suddenly snatched off the table so quickly that he would have had the breath knocked out of him if he had any to give, and the hands were not as gentle this time, squeezing him hard enough to bruise his ribs, but Lance had to put that to fear rather than a lack of caring, judging by the way the hands were shaking.   
Lance saw a flash of red and immediately knew who was holding him.   
Keith brought him up above his head like he was going to throw him to the ground.   
'This is it.' Thought Lance. 'Keith's finally snapped and he's going to kill me.'   
The rest of the team seemed to follow this line of logic as well, shouting protests at Keith.   
He was brought down so quickly that Lance suddenly felt stupid about comparing his ride with Shiro to the tower of terror. That was a marry-go-round compared to this. 

He didn't hit the floor, thankfully, and when Keith held his hand still halfway through bringing Lance down the water droplet finally fell from his mouth and Lance could breathe again.   
Lance immediately took advantage of this, taking in a deep breath and ignoring the way his ribs ached in Keith's hold when he did.   
Keith carefully set Lance back onto the table, and when Lance looked up to make some sort of hilarious joke that would disguise how grateful he was to him, Keith was gone. All he saw a flash of dark hair as he turned out the door.   
He didn't have time to dwell on this, however, as Hunk is crying with relief and residual fear, Shiro is coming down from what he called 'a near heart attack', and Pidge is berating him for forgetting simple laws of science that could have saved them all the terror of Lance almost dying. 

Lance doesn't have the luxury to focus on what his friends are talking about, he's still staring fervently at the door that Keith just marched out of furiously.   
They are going to have to talk about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This scene is largely based off of a part of a chapter in this story! https://archiveofourown.org/works/10884486/chapters/24186747   
> If you like One Piece, and you like the content of this story, you should read it!  
> If you can take the time to comment on my work and tell me what you think, I would really appreciate it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for panic attacks in this chapter! Its not super desricptive but I thought i would put a warning in just in case! The scene in question starts after 'Lance tries to fall asleep, he really does.' and ends after 'Hunk took Keith's place at Lance's side and sent him out while he dealt with the situation.' Ill give a summary at the end!

After dinner, and after everyone had calmed down after the near choking incident, there is a debate over where Lance will sleep.   
Hunk, Pidge, and Coran cant take him because they're going to be looking for a cure, Shiro is worried about hurting him in the throes of a nightmare, and Allura just says no.  
That leaves Keith, and neither of them look very happy about this development.   
After everyone leaves and Hunk gives Keith a look that told Lance that any one of them could have taken him, Keith sighs and puts his hand down on the table for Lance to climb onto.   
Lance really does not feel like being carried again, so he runs up Keith's arm, feeling his muscles stiffen as he tries to stay still avoid knocking Lance off and hurting him.   
Lance jumps onto Keith's shoulder, and from what he can see from his expression, he looks absolutely scandalized.   
"You can not ride on my shoulder. That's so fucking dangerous."   
Lance responds to that sentiment by grabbing a lock of Keith's hair with both hands and pulling as hard as he could, which admittedly, wasn't very hard, and yelling "Mush!" 

Keith sighs and stands up, which nearly knocks Lance off balance, luckily going unnoticed by Keith due to Lance still holding onto his hair for stability.  
They walk through the halls towards Keith's room, and Lance grows uncomfortable with the silence that has overcome the two of them.   
Lance starts babbling, as he is so keen to do, about nothing in particular.   
He manages to keep this up for a few minutes before Keith snapped at him to shut up and he quieted.   
They reach Keith's room and he enters, placing a hand on his nightstand for Lance to walk down to. He does and Keith busies himself trying to find supplies for a bed for Lance.   
He comes up with one of the same electric blankets from the med bay, which he fashions into a sort of nest, and covers it with a pillowcase.   
Lance stretches out on it luxuriously.   
"Wow! If this is a curse, I should anger more witches." He says, hoping to elicit a laugh from Keith.   
He doesn't get a reaction, and instead, Keith flops down on his bed, fully clothed and pulls the covers around his shoulder, facing the wall.   
"Do you sleep with your boots on every night?" Lance teased.   
Keith turned around to give him a dry look.   
"You're still wearing your undersuit."   
Lance sputtered at the retaliation.   
"That's not my decision! If I had the chance I would be wearing the most comfortable pajamas known to man!"   
Keith rolled back over to face the wall again.   
"Must be why you're always late for morning training."   
"Oh yeah? I'm still better than you, even when I'm late for train-"   
"Lance. I'm trying to sleep." 

Lance quieted with a huff. He had at least felt some surge of normalcy in their bickering.   
Keith commands the lights out, and the room is flooded with darkness.   
Lance tries to fall asleep, he really does.   
He just can't stop thinking. He had been doing his best to distract himself from his position all day, but now, it was dark. There were no distractions from the overwhelming largeness of everything around him. The danger he was in, even at the hands of his friends.   
Hell, he didn't even know if there was a cure. He could be stuck this way forever. He couldn't even contribute to the team anymore, they were probably going to send him back home.   
The warmth that usually accompanied his thoughts of his home was absent at the realization that he wouldn't be able to find a way back home, even if he did get back to Earth.   
He lets out a sob that he hopes Keith cant hear when he realizes that this must be the real reason Keith won't look at him, he's useless to the team now. Lance knows how much being efficient means to Keith, and now he's contributing practically nothing. 

Oh God, he cant breathe. 

00000

Keith has just begun dozing off when he hears a quiet sob and shoots back to awareness immediately.   
He sits up and looks to Lance, who is having what looks like a full-blown panic attack.   
Keith's heart goes icy and he swings himself out of bed and to Lance's side. It's only when he opens his mouth to speak he that he realizes that he has no idea how to handle the situation.  
Sure, he's had panic attacks before, but he's always managed to let it run its course and then sleep for what felt like ages. He had no idea how to help someone else!  
He remembers the mental health lessons that everyone had to sit through at the Garrison and remembered that they had a course on panic attacks and how to bring someone down from one.   
Keith barely remembered anything from that class, but he reached back as far as he could in his memory.   
He remembered that people couldn't breathe, and helping them breathe was a good way to bring them back to reality.   
"Lance, can you hear me?" Keith asked, trying to keep his own panic out of his voice so as not to freak him out more.   
Lance nodded spastically, and Keith took that as permission to continue speaking.   
"Can you breathe?"   
Lance shook his head frantically, hands going to his throat.   
"Okay. Okay, that's fine. That's fine. Uh, breathe with me?" Keith tried to keep his breaths steady and even, and help Lance get enough oxygen to his brain to calm down, but he was starting to freak out too.   
Christ, he couldn't do this. 

"Is there someone I should call?" He asked, fear leaking into his voice despite himself. He remembered that if you couldn't help them yourself, you should call someone they trust.  
"Hunk." Lance wheezed out, and Keith jumped into action, heading to the intercom system and projected his voice to the med bay, which is where Keith was sure he was, looking for a cure for Lance.   
"Hunk! Something's wrong with Lance! He's asking for you!"   
He heard noises of confirmation on the other end and he hung up, going back over to Lance's side to make sure he didn't pass out or something.   
It only took a minute before Hunk opened the door and walked in, breathing heavily from running from the other side of the castle.   
Hunk took Keith's place at Lance's side and sent him out while he dealt with the situation. 

Keith leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as angry tears pricked at his eyes. He was pathetic.   
His friend was having a panic attack and he couldn't even help. He had to call someone else in like a coward. He didn't even know Lance had panic attacks! Showed what kind of friend he was.   
Keith scuffed his boot on the floor, face hot as he tried to hold back tears.   
He should have tried to support him better. Anybody would have been freaked out in this situation. Lance was clearly just trying to distract himself with jokes and chatter, and instead of comforting him, Keith just told him to shut up.   
First, he cut him with a goddamned sword, then he was an insensitive prick.   
God.   
Keith angrily wiped away a tear, cutting the skin under his eye with his fingernail.   
It stung, but he ignored it, waiting for Hunk to come back out. 

After around ten minutes, Hunk comes back out, looking tired and sad.   
Keith immediately jumped to him, asking if Lance was alright.   
Hunk nodded, and Keith noticed that his eyes were red from crying.  
"He's okay. He's asleep now. Try not to wake him up, he needs all the rest he can get right now."  
Hunk looked back at the door forlornly.   
"I really hate seeing him like this."  
"I didn't know Lance had panic attacks." Keith blurted out, causing Hunk to look at him in surprise.   
Keith blushed and looked at the glared at the ground.   
"He has ADHD, which also can cause anxiety and panic attacks."   
Keith looked up at Hunk in shock.  
"What? I didn't know he had ADHD!"   
Hunk quirks an eyebrow at him.   
"He literally told all of us at dinner. He made like, a whole announcement like a month ago after he ran out of medicine. Coran has been helping him with substitutes since then."   
Keith frowned guiltily. He really needed to listen more often.   
Hunk put a hand on his shoulder.   
"Hey, don't dwell on it. All we can do is try to change. Now go back to bed."   
Keith nodded and walked back into his room, turning off the lights and closing the door silently. 

He laid down and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before turning and looking to Lance, who was lit up in a beam of artificial moonlight. He looked down at his boots, and pulled them off, and quickly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary: Lance ends up sleeping in Keith's room and has a panic attack, which Keith dosent know how to deal with, so he calls Hunk, and feels bad about not knowing what to do.
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you could find the time to comment and tell me what you think, I would really appreciate it!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> brownie points if you can guess the theme of lance's coping mechanism

Keith wakes up feeling like his skin is made of rubber, his eyelashes sticking together as he wonders what woke him up.   
Or he wonders until there is a sharp tug on his hair and he shoots up, nearly out of bed before he hears angry shouting coming from the weight dangling from the dark hair framing his ears.   
Keith jumps and puts a hand under Lance, who lets go of his hair and makes a big show of wiping his hands on his already filthy undersuit.   
"Would it kill you to wash your hair?" He asks hautily.   
Keith snorts, flopping back down on his pillow and setting Lance on his stomach, watching as he tries to keep his balance while his stomach moved up and down with his breath.   
Keith yawns and Lance falls over and opts to sit on his naval instead of stand.   
"Why'd you wake me?"   
"Because we're late for breakfast. I thought you were supposed to be the one who was always on time for everything."   
Keith blinked at the clock, not taking time to wonder why he slept so late when his usual internal clock was an early riser before standing and letting Lance run up his arm and perch on his shoulder, before sitting down and drawling out a command to be taken to breakfast, and Keith can't help but roll his eyes as he follows the instruction anyway. 

When he enters the dining room, everyone is staring at him, he cants tell if its because he's late or if they're still getting used to a four inch tall Lance riding around on people's shoulders.   
Keith set his hand down on Lance's spot on the table, where his saucer was already set up, and ran back down his arm and slid into a seated position next to his plate with a smile.   
Pidge was still staring at him in amusement.   
"What?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows.   
"You aren't wearing shoes." 

Keith looked down at his feet with an irritated squawk while Lance bellowed with laughter that was surprisingly loud for such tiny lungs.   
"That's why you sleep fully clothed? You're forgetful?" Lance asked, still laughing.   
Keith scowled.   
"No! It's in case something happens when we're sleeping!"   
Lance wiped an imaginary tear from his eye and went back to whatever he was doing. 

Keith didn't have time to run back to his room to get his shoes because at that moment Hunk waltzed through the door with breakfast. 

Keith doesn't contribute much to the conversations held by everyone else during breakfast, instead eliciting to eat his meal and watch everyone else talk, which wasn't too out of the ordinary.   
He did catch Hunk shooting him a grateful look though. 

000

After breakfast, Pidge and Hunk stopped him from leaving, instead just roping Lance into more testing.   
"Just to make sure this won't hurt you!" Insisted Pidge innocently.   
Lance leveled her with a disbelieving look.   
"Okay, that's why Hunk is doing it. I'm just trying to figure this out." Pidge admitted. "But hey, a cure could come from this too, so don't look so gloomy."   
Lance followed them, well hitching a ride on them, his whiney protests holding no heat. 

When they get to the medical bay the two of them, well three, now that Coran has joined them run what they plan to do by him.   
The main thing they are going to try to do is draw blood, which, after Pidge runs some calculations, turns out to be pretty risky.   
They need one and a half teaspoons of blood to run the tests and where they stand now Lance only has five teaspoons of blood.   
That's thirty percent of his blood. Lance gets a little shivery thinking about it, so he tries his best not to.   
Pidge explains the side effects: anxiousness, confusion, a weakening pulse, and a lower blood pressure.   
"But you'll be okay." Lance doesn't miss the probably she throws in under her breath, nor the elbow that Hunk juts into her side. 

The process itself is unnerving, to say the least, they use the smallest needle they can find, but it's still way too big for Lance, and Hunk apologizes while he holds him down in a reprive of when he put his shoulder back into place, explaining that he doesn't want him to move and risk losing any more blood than needed.   
Coran ends up being the one to take the blood, and Lance can't help but make a pained noise that he cant really hear over the blood in his ears that leaves Hunk making worried noises above him.   
It feels like a goddamned dagger in his arm, and he does know what those feel like. It certainly is big enough to be one.   
And then the dagger starts drawing blood.   
He feels faint a lot. He gets low blood sugar and he knows how uncomfortable is. God, are his hands already shaking?   
His vision starts to black out a little around the edges and he feels someone start to wrap his arm, though he cants tell who, and he knows that's a bad sign but he can't bring himself to care.   
He feels the vibrations of people talking and hears the tones that mean it's a question, but he cant find the energy to answer.   
He can't really remember what he was doing. His arm hurts.   
He just ate breakfast, he shouldn't feel this sick.

Someone picks him up and he is surrounded by warm.  
He twists a bit in their grasp, thinking about how he should be too big to pick up so easily, but is held down by what he has to assume is their thumb. It's not needed on their part anyway. He's way too shaky to put up a real fight.   
He's set down on something even warmer than the hands that were previously wrapped around him and though he is a bit disappointed at the loss of the comforting pressure it gave, he took his situation at face value and gladly traded the shaky, sick feeling of faintness for oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i havent updated in a few days, i havent had internet! It is currently 3:28 because i forgot I was writing and watched molly burke videos for hours  
> can you tell i was faint when writing this? ugh ugh its the WORST  
> as always if you can find the time to comment I would really appreciate it!


	8. Chapter 8

When Lance wakes up, (and he knew he would, despite all his wining he trusts them completely), he feels like his mouth is full of sand.   
He rolls over and sticks out his tongue in disgust before propping himself up with his elbows to look out over the med bay.   
Hunk is cleaning something, and glances over at Lance, jerking when he sees he's awake and walking over to him with a relieved smile.   
Lance stretched, arms arching above his head and clasping his hands.  
"Any updates on this whole curse deal?" He asked through a yawn.  
Hunk shook his head sadly, already brandishing the results of Lances tests.   
Lance tried to cover up his disappointment with another yawn, which only sort of worked, causing Hunk to yawn in return.   
Lance felt a little shock of fear at the massive maw that stretched in front of him, and he quickly looked away. 

Before he has the chance to dwell on the hopelessness of the situation, Pidge cuts in, complaining about how the real pain of this curse stems from the fact that it is completely ignoring the square-cube law.   
She explains it angrily to the rest of the group, and Lance listens with amusement, grateful for the distraction.   
"Like, if your cells have shrunk and not depleted, then your density should have remained the same. Your density has clearly not remained the same, you barely weigh anything! It's like this whole scenario is a crackfic some teenager who doesn't care about scientific facts wrote to work out her weird fascination with shrinking!" Pidge ranted.  
"I think you lost the plot a little bit there. " Hunk said in amusement. 

Pidge sat down with a huff.  
"Maybe a little."  
Lance's laugh was cut off by an alarm ringing through the room signaling training.  
Everyone gets up and stretches out their tense muscles and begins heading to the training deck.   
Hunk was almost out the door before he turned back to Lance with a guilty smile.  
"Sorry, forgot. Do you need me to carry you?"   
Lance shook his head and ran up Hunk's arm, trying to get it to be common knowledge that this was a much-preferred mode of transportation so everyone would stop asking to carry him. 

Lance rode on Hunk's shoulder to the training deck with little issues, Hunk eliciting to talk about whatever food he had figured out how to make with the minimal ingredients that they had on board.

When they reach the training deck Hunk makes a stop at the control room to drop Lance off with Allura and Coran, and Lance has to remind himself that this is not babysitting.   
He spends the next half an hour watching the others spar, and feels strangely jealous.   
Though he would normally take any opportunity to hang out with the princess instead of train, this felt more like he was being left out. Like he was being useless.   
Lance chewed at his lip at that thought and jumped when Allura shouted out a command through the loudspeakers. 

She switches off the intercom and turns to Lance.   
He blinks up at her, waiting for whatever she had to say.   
"I wanted to discuss with you how you can make yourself useful around the castle while you are in this state."  
Lance bit down the disappointment that came rushing in with her statement.   
'This is what you wanted!' He reminds himself. 'You wanted to be useful.'  
Even so, the princess's words only confirmed that his uselessness was not a product of his mind. Other people were noticing.   
Lance nodded and asked Allura to continue. 

He left the control room with Coran after being instructed to help him with whatever he needed.   
Apparently, he doesn't need any help now, because he drops Lance off with the others on the training deck.   
Lance once again perches himself on Hunk's shoulder and joins in on their conversation as they walk.   
"You guys know what the real tragedy about all this is?" He asks the group at large. A couple of them turn to look at him, which he takes as prompting to continue his complaining. Hell if anyone on this ship has earned the right to complain right now it's him.   
"I only have my under armor. I've been wearing these for days!"   
He slumped back on Hunk's shoulder with a hand over his eyes and started to slip off before Hunk gently pushed him back to a stable position. 

Keith perks up at his whining and turns to him.  
"I know how to make doll clothes!"   
Everyone went silent, staring at Keith, who flushed and turned his eyes back to the ground.   
"I used to make custom dolls. It was a good way to make money."

Before Hunk could start gushing about how Keith had so many hidden talents, Lance jumped from Hunk's shoulder to Keith's, producing a startled shout from both of them.   
"Well, then I'm going with you! I'm so sick of wearing a flight suit. You would not believe the wegi-"  
"And we're going!" Keith interrupted. 

000

As it turns out, Keith keeps tabs on where the craft supply closet is.   
"I didn't even know we had one," Lance said, looking around in awe at the seemingly endless fabrics.   
Keith hummed non-committally, and held out another fabric for Lance to feel.  
"Oh! I love that!" Lance exclaimed. 

Now they were heading back to Keith's room with an armful of fancy fabrics while Keith's head was already spinning with potential designs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i havent been posting as regularly! i havent been as motivated honestly. but i am determined to finish this story! dont you worry your pretty little head.   
> as always, if you can take the time to comment it really makes my day  
> have a swell day!


	9. Chapter 9

Keith is sketching out plans for an intricate robe for Lance on some strangely textured paper while Lance swings his legs over the sheer drop that stretched before him at the edge of the table. He normally would be absolutely petrified to be so close to such a deadly drop, but, although he would never say it to his face, he trusts Keith with his life.   
After a few minutes of Lance staring off into space contentedly to the sounds of a pencil lightly scratching and erasing on alien paper, Keith brandishes the sheet at Lance, beaming.   
Lance looks over the drawing, hoping his wonder is properly concealed on his face.   
He leans closer to Keith, not noticing that his face was only centimeters from his nose as he marveled at the drawing.   
"I didn't know you could draw!"   
Keith scratched the back of his neck, blushing.   
"Well, yeah. I mean, I had a lot of time on my hands growing up and simple art was a cheap hobby." He said, not making eye contact with Lance. 

As Keith cuts and sews silky fabrics he asks Lance to tell him stories, he says it helps him focus.   
Lance talks about home mostly. About his family and about the beach and other things he missed.   
After a few minutes, Lance's rambling has trailed off into silence, instead choosing to stare at the ceiling and reminisce fondly. Keith doesn't seem to mind that the only sounds are breathing and the sound of metal going through cloth.   
It's because he's so focused on his memories that he doesn't notice Keith's hand wrapping around him. Not like its an emergency or anything, and he's not as gentle as usual. It doesn't hurt though. It feels kind of nice if Lance is being honest, warm and heavy.   
Keith's fingers twist around him and turn him around, toying with his body. That's when Lance realizes.  
Keith is fidgeting with him.   
Lance bursts out laughing, breaking the tranquility of the scene.  
Starting at the sudden noise Keith realizes what he was doing and drops Lance in surprise, before apologizing furiously.   
Lance waves him down, wiping away a fake tear for dramatic effect. 

"No, you're good. Just funny. You were using me as a fidget toy!" Lance breaks down into giggles again as Keith blushes even harder.   
Lance stands up, having recovered from his laughing fit, and puts his hands on either one of Keith's cheeks, looking at him with amusement.  
"You know what this means! Neurodivergent brothers!" Keith looks down at him in confusion, crossing his eyes some to look at Lance.   
Lance pushes his face away in mock disgust and shouts.   
"C'mon! I'm ADD! I'm sure no one on this ship is completely mentally healthy! You can stim with me if you want."   
Keith looks at him reluctantly, as if he's not sure if Lance is setting him up for a joke or not.   
Lance sticks his nose up haughtily.   
"Besides, it feels nice too. You have warm hands."   
He's not looking at Keith, but he feels his gaze soften and he is swept up by a surprisingly soft hand.   
Keith continues stitching together Lance's robe, now only using one hand. 

This goes on peacefully for a couple minutes, but as Lance opens his mouth to ask if this qualified as a bonding moment he felt one of Keith's fingers brush the still sore wound on his side and he yelped, more in surprise than in pain, though he did have to admit that it hurt quite a bit.   
Keith drops him (again) and Lance hits the table, knocking all the wind out of him.

Keith stares at him with wide eyes, which Lance realized with a jolt were full of fear, and began stuttering apologies at an unimaginable speed. Before Lance can comfort him though, his eyes fill with tears and he darts away, muttering something about the bathroom.

Lance sits in silence waiting for Keith to get back so he could ignore that he was crying if only as an act of mercy. Nearly ten minutes go by before Lance jumps at the sound of the alarms blaring and the Lions roaring, signaling that the others had gone off to battle. He sighs and starts to look down for a way off the counter.   
He spots Keith's thread and smiles. He's seen The Secret World of Arrietty before, so he ties the end of the thread to the table lamp and rolls the spool off of the table. He silently prays that it will reach the ground, and to his relief, it does.   
He slides down, muttering about the small rope burn he had received while putting his great idea into action.   
He walks to the door, thankful to see that it had been left open a crack, and he squeezes his way through the door. 

He's walking along the wall of the hallway, happy to be able to wander the castle without assistance. No one was here to hurt him without noticing now that everyone was out fighting, well, except Caleb, but he was in the control room.   
He is halfway through banishing any worries about being stepped on when the ship lurches hard enough to throw him to the ground and reopen his still healing gash.   
He clutches his side with a pained, throaty noise, glaring up at the ceiling as if it might have done this.   
The lights turn purple abruptly and Lance pales.   
The ship has been taken over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about not posting for a while, i havent really found time to write. I guess theres a climax to be working on :)   
> as always, thank you for reading, and if you could take the time to comment on this story it would really make my day! I try to respond when I can find the words and even if I dont every single comment has me beaming!
> 
> Have a blessed day!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woah! Warning time!   
> This chapter contains eye trauma!

The second that Lance realizes that the ship is no longer under Voltron's control, he begins sprinting as fast as he can down the cavernous hallways, which is admittedly pretty damned fast thanks to all the training he had been taking up with the others before this whole curse thing had taken effect.  
But even Olympian runners would have trouble getting through these expansive hallways, let alone navigating them properly.   
He does slow eventually because no amount of training can really let someone sprint for long distances without stopping. Or maybe there is, but Lance didn't have it.  
Either way, he knew he wasn't going to be able to make it to the control room alone. Hell, what was he going to do when he got there, it's not like he could fight back.  
He came close to being consumed by dread before a shuffling and a squeak sounded behind him. He turned to see one of the brightly colored mice that called the ship home sniffling at his feet.   
It squeaks again, and even without Alluras help, he can tell that it is offering a ride. Lance nearly cries in relief at the notion. 

0000

A few minutes later and Lance is clinging to the fur of a mouse that is running much faster than he could have. A perk of having four legs, he guesses.   
He grips at the pin he had taken with him from Keith's room, holding tight to the only weapon available to him.  
The mouse hoists both of them into the ventilation shafts after a quick investigation showed that they had locked the doors to the control room and there was no way that the two of them were going to be able to break down the door to get in.   
The mouse had dropped Lance off at an opening in the tunnel and had run off to get the other mice.

So Lance was watching Coran struggle against bonds and a gag, his stomach twisting with the need to do something, and his hands sweating with the inability to.   
He refrained from shouting out as one of the Galra delivered a swift kick to the side of Coran's head and he fell unconscious.   
Lance is horrified. He doesn't think this is too unreasonable an emotion for a situation like this.   
He knows he should wait for the mice to come back and help him, but he can't do nothing!

Lance clutches at the slats he is peering through, cutting into his hands and bringing small beads of blood up through his skin, though he doesn't notice as he scans the room for any tool he can use to his advantage in helping his friend.   
Lance's chest seizes with the sudden realization that he is completely alone.   
Nobody has his back this time. Everybody that could help him once cant anymore.   
Everything is up to him now. 

He needs a way to incapacitate all of them at once. If he only takes out one he will still have no chance with the remaining two. Hell, he wouldn't even have a chance with one of them.   
His eyes land on a switch and a figurative lightbulb springs up above his head.   
He knows what he has to do.   
There is a large switch on the control board that Allura sometimes uses to give them a small shock when they are arguing to get their attention back on her. Luckily for him, anyone touching the switch or the control board wouldn't be affected by the shock.  
If he can turn up the intensity of the shock and flip the switch he could knock all of them out at once. 

It's dangerous, but it's the best bet. He checks to make sure that Coran is touching the control board, and to his relief, his unconscious form is leaning up against it.   
He runs through the shafts, rushing to the other side of the room to the second vent which opened up directly above the control board.   
He leans over the slats, watching the Galras to make sure that they were turned away. 

He needed an opening before he could do anything more.   
He finds it when the three of them are all looking to the ships security camera, laughing at the fact that Hunk is crying as he tries to break back into the castle.   
A spike of anger swells in Lance's belly and he takes his opening, leaping from in between the slats and ducking into a roll as he lands to avoid injuring his legs.   
It works, but only halfway. He still manages to hurt his ankle, but he figures it can't be worse than a bad sprain.   
He limps quietly over to the switch, praying to whatever deity had followed them into space that the Galras didn't look over to the control board and see him. 

He reaches the knob next to the switch and turns it up into the red area, hoping it would be enough to knock them all out.   
He makes his way to the switch and arches his back against the wall adjacent to it, pressing his legs to the grip.   
"HEY!"   
Shit.   
Well, there was no time like the present, thought Lance as he pushed his legs against the switch. The air crackled with electricity and Lance barely had enough time to celebrate the fact that it worked- his convoluted plan had actually worked!- before an armored hand clamped around him, knocking the air out of him.   
He stares off in the face of the one remaining Galra, one with an eyepatch, who is scowling at him. Shit, he must have been touching the control panel.   
Lance doesn't have time to dwell on this, however, as the Galra only squeezes him harder and he feels a couple of his ribs crack under the pressure. 

He brings Lance up to his face and makes some sort of jab about how pathetic Lance was for a Paladin of Voltron that Lance can't really hear over the rushing blood in his ears.   
A blast of warm air runs over Lance and he figures his last words might as well be badass.   
"You're breath smells like shit."   
The Galra's eyebrows furrowed, and with the confusion that came with Lance's insult, his hold weakened. Lance managed to pull his arm free, the arm that was still clutching the pin he had taken, and he pushed the pin into the Galra's remaining eye, causing a deafening howl to shake what felt like his very soul.   
He doesn't have time to worry about what feels like being deafened, because the Galra seems to want to have both hands free to clutch at his mutilated eye, so he elicits to free his hand by flinging Lance across the room and into a wall. 

Lance can see specks of blood being knocked out of his mouth when he impacts, even with the edges of his vision going white with pain.   
He hits the ground and promptly passes out. 

0000

Luckily for him, he couldn't have been out for more than a few seconds, but the back of his head is bleeding and he's having trouble recalling what is going on.   
The Galra is still scrabbling around, trying to find Lance only using touch, making angry noises in the back of his throat. 

Lance gives him a wide birth on his way to Coran's still prone figure.   
He is restrained with something that looks like a futuristic version of handcuffs, though they look like they function the same as earth handcuffs- they just have some glowy bits. Pretentious bastards.   
Lance sticks his arm into the lock of the cuffs and clutches at the gears and pins hidden in the metal casing until it comes loose with a click.  
He makes his way up to Coran and stands on his collarbone, trying to think of a way to wake him up.   
Lance decides to go with slapping him as hard as he can. 

It works, which actually surprises Lance. He supposes that Coran must have already been waking up and Lance just tipped the scales.   
Either way, Coran shoots up, which knocks Lance to the floor. Or, it would have, if Coran didn't catch him almost immediately.   
Coran took the gag off of himself and set Lance down on the ground and went to go knock out the Galra still writing on the ground. He moves to the control panel and takes down the particle barrier that was still in place, keeping the others out of the castle. 

Lance wanted to greet the others, but Christ he was in a lot of pain.   
He slumped against the control panel and covered his eyes with a hand, trying to block out some of the blinding light that did nothing but increase his already building headache.   
Coran sits down next to him and does the exact same thing. He assumes they both have headaches, after Lance getting thrown into a wall and Coran getting kicked in the head. 

The door bursts open and the team rushes in, Coran standing up to greet them. Hunk almost steps on Lance in his haste, and then profusely apologizes for it, but Lance can't really find it in him to be horrified by yet another near death experience. He was too tired.   
Apparently, the foggy look in his eyes is apparent even when his eyes were the size of a pinhead, because Hunk stills, stopping his relived crying as he realized that Lance wasn't really responding to the multitude of voices around him. Lance wanted to, but he could really separate the voices from each other, let alone pin each voice to a face. Or a name. 

"Are you hurt?" Asks the one with dark hair, just getting long enough to brush his shoulders, his voice dripping with concern. The one with a headband starts asking someone else something and Lance feels remarkably tired.   
He wants to reassure the people around him, even if he's drawing a bit of a blank on exactly who they are.   
"The guy with the armor squeezed me... and threw me into...the wall." He manages to wheeze out, and wow, does it really hurt to talk.   
This explanation apparently didn't reassure anyone in the room, for the faces above him just looked horrified. 

A few of the people say that they're going to take the unconscious aliens to the prison deck and the other half of the team takes Lance to the infirmary. He knows this because that is where he tends to go when he's in this much pain. 

Despite the worried sounding requests not to fall asleep, he does end up passing out again.   
He seems to be doing a lot of that lately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I know my update schedual has been sporatic at best, but im going to finsish this by the end of summer! I promise!  
> If you can take the time to comment I would really appreciate it! It really gives me a reason to keep writing this!


	11. Chapter 11

When he next opened his eyes Coran was reading off a list of injuries that Lance had to assume belonged to him, given the situation.  
"- Well, his ankle is absolutely shattered, he has a severe concussion, three broken ribs, and the rest of them are pretty badly bruised. There is pretty intense bruising on his back but his spine is fairing well, given the circumstances. He'll be alright, with time and rest." 

There comes the sound of multiple people sighing in relief. He wonders to himself who is in the room with him and without any warning he bursts into tears. He decides to blame this on his concussion.  
Keith, who was the closest to the bed he was lying on immediately jumps up and stands over him, his face a mask of terrified concern.  
He starts yelling, half at Lance, asking if he's okay, half at Coran, saying that he said Lance would be fine.  
Lance watches Hunk push Keith out of the way to get to his bedside, where he takes a knee and cups his hands around him in a mimicry of a hug.  
His voice is low when he asks, "Are you crying because you're in pain or because you're upset?"  
Lance just shakes his head and sits up, leaning hard into one of Hunk's warm hands, holding up two fingers to indicate the second option.  
"You're upset?"  
Lance nodded and Hunk made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat. 

He sees Hunk gesture at the others to give them some space through his tears, and watches as they do, albeit reluctantly.  
Hunk asks him what's wrong, thankfully too low for the other's to hear.  
Lance's voice is shaking something terrible when he answers.  
"I-I could b-barely do any-anything! I was a-alone!"  
Hunk barely waits for Lance to finish talking before speaking up.  
"What? No! You took down an entire room of Galras that outsized you a hundredfold! That's one of the most impressive things I've ever seen!" 

This seems to calm down Lance to a degree, he's crying much more softly now, hiccups breaching his breath every now and again.  
Lance looks over to the rest of the group to see if they had heard and jumped a bit when he saw Keith weeping into his hands while Pidge watches with one of the most baffled expressions Lance has ever seen.  
This seems to hit his funny bone because he lets out something between a sob and a laugh.  
Allura and Shiro both powerwalk into the room awkwardly before seeing everyone's tearstreaked face and both apparently assuming the worst for Lance's fate, running to his bedside, which was honestly becoming a bit crowded.  
Shiro, upon seeing that Lance was not keeled over, sighed a bit in relief and got down on his knees, mimicking what Hunk was doing and cupping a hand next to him.  
"What's wrong?" The entire display was so dad-like that Lance didn't know whether to laugh or cry.  
He went with the latter.  
And he spilled not only an excessive amount of tears but his guts as well.  
He told everyone how worthless he felt, how useless he felt.  
Told them things he would never have had the courage to say to their faces without a concussion.  
Halfway through one of Lance's self-deprecating sentences, Keith cuts him off with a shout. 

"I always thought you were really cool!" 

Everyone turns to stare at Keith and he blushed furiously, scuffing the toe of his shoe into the metal floor.  
Keith keeps talking, despite the fact that he's not looking any of them in the eyes anymore.  
"I really envy the way you have with people. I was never very social, and it just baffles me how you can make everyone in the room smile just by walking through the door. No matter how tense the situation is, you can make someone laugh. Everybody likes you! And I don't know how you manage to be so likable! You're the heart of this team. You're keeping at least some of the weight of this war off of our shoulders, and that means everything to me."  
When Keith finished his speech he held out a hand, which was filled with a deep royal blue cloth and black lace.  
It was an intricately crafted robe, far more complicated than their original plans. 

Lance rubs at his face, tears having stopped somewhere during the conversation.  
"That's a lot more complex than the original sketches you did." Lance laughs, voice rough from crying.  
Keith shrugged, still blushing.  
"You were out for a few hours. I like having something to do with my hands when I'm anxious."  
Lance snorted and reached out to take the robe, handling it like it was sewn out of spider's silk, and slides it over his arms, tying the belt tightly around his waist and shooting a watery smile up at Keith. 

Keith rubs the back of his neck again, going red.  
"I would hug you, but, you know-"  
Lance cut him off by jumping to his collarbone and spreading his arms across Keith's neck.  
He feels the pulse from Keith's jugular quicken in surprise and just holds tighter. 

After a few seconds of silence only broken by Pidge whispering something about 'having to watch this like it's a sappy rom-com', Lance feels Keith's shoulders start to bounce against his stomach.  
"Are you crying?" Lance asks, amusement coloring his voice.  
"N-no," Keith said shakily. 

Lance pulled back from Keith's neck and stared up into his watery eyes, feeling so warm in a way that had nothing to do with pressing up against one of someone's main artery.  
He makes an impulse decision that he decides to blame once again on his recent head injury.  
He presses a kiss on the top of Keith's cupid bow. 

Before either party can react to this new development, the two of them are wrapped in a burst of blue lightning, and Lance is pleasantly surprised that it doesn't hurt him, but it feels pleasantly familiar.  
When the light fades, Lance is staring down at a fully sized Keith, who is lying under him looking up with equal measures of shock.  
He is back to normal and clad in a loose blue and black robe. 

The room erupts in a cacophony of noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hewwo! so we dwaw to a cwose huh?   
> thank you for reading!   
> as always, if you could leave a comment it would make writing this alot easier. I try to respond to every message i get!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! thank you for reading! let me know if you liked it, or what I could do better! The kind comments and kudos really make writing these kind of stories worthwhile!!


End file.
